The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Estella's body felt like it was on fire. The heat pulsed through her veins, her skin sensitive to every movement, every breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, trying to block out the fog of desire clouding her thoughts. The aphrodisiac was stronger than she had expected, its effects overwhelming every sense, reducing her focus to a haze of heat and need. Her body screamed at her to give in, to let go, but Estella's stubbornness wouldn't allow it.

No, she thought, her jaw clenching.

I'm stronger than this. I won't be beaten by my own plan.

She had always prided herself on her willpower. Her beauty, her cunning, her endurance—these were the traits that had gotten her this far in life. The aphrodisiac might be winning over her body, but she refused to let it claim her mind. The more the warmth twisted through her, the more she fought it. Estella wouldn't allow herself to lose control. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.

Her vision blurred, a soft haze settling over the world. She blinked, willing her senses to focus. Mikhailis's figure stood before her, watching her with that same calm demeanor, his curiosity barely masked behind his ever-present smile. His relaxed posture contrasted with the storm raging inside her, and somehow that just added to her frustration. She wanted to prove that she was still in control—of herself, of him, of everything.

Taking a deep breath, Estella forced herself forward. Each step was shaky, her legs barely obeying her commands, but she moved until she stood right in front of Mikhailis. She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. There was something in his eyes—amusement, maybe pity? She wasn't sure, and that uncertainty fueled her stubborn resolve.

"Hold me," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes locked on his. She hated how vulnerable she sounded, hated the desperation that leaked into her voice despite her best efforts. But it was necessary. She needed to get close to him, to regain the upper hand.

Mikhailis's eyes softened, and for a moment, she thought she saw genuine concern there. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. The contact was almost too much. Estella felt her body tense, then relax as the warmth of his embrace surrounded her, his scent, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all overwhelming, but somehow comforting. She buried her face in his chest, closing her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

Stay focused, she thought, take control.

She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, the heat from the aphrodisiac mixing with the strange comfort she found in his embrace. Slowly, she lifted her head, her gaze meeting his once more. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, amusement, maybe even sympathy. She didn't care. She was determined to make this work.

Without another word, Estella leaned in, her lips finding his. The kiss was different this time. It wasn't hesitant or cautious. It was fierce, driven by her need to regain control, to prove something—to herself, to him. Her hands moved up, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. She deepened the kiss, her desperation spilling over, the heat from the aphrodisiac only adding fuel to the fire.

Mikhailis responded, his movements smooth and steady, letting her take the lead, matching her pace without pushing for more. His lips moved with a gentle pressure, meeting her intensity without overpowering it, and his tongue teased against hers, exploring with a deliberate tenderness. His calmness infuriated her, made her want to break that composed facade of his. She kissed him harder, her body pressing against his, her mind focusing on the sensation of his lips against hers, the taste of him—a subtle mix of warmth and something she couldn't quite place, but it was intoxicating. She sucked at his lower lip, feeling the soft give of his flesh, the pressure of his mouth yielding just enough to her. For a moment, she felt like she was in control again, like she was the one leading this dance. It was a fleeting feeling, but it was enough.

Is he... letting me take control? Or is he just playing along? Estella couldn't tell, and it frustrated her. The heat in her veins burned hotter, her senses clouded by desire and determination.

Rhea watched them, her eyes half-lidded, her body betraying her. She tried to stay alert, tried to keep her focus on protecting Estella, but her limbs felt heavy, her vision blurred. She could feel the warmth spreading through her body, her breath coming in short gasps. She needed to stay close, needed to make sure Estella was safe. But the scene before her, the kiss, the closeness—it drew her in, her instincts wavering between protection and something else. Discover exclusive content at empire

She took a shaky step forward, her eyes fixed on Estella and Mikhailis. She wanted to intervene, to pull Estella away, but at the same time, she felt a strange pull, a need to be part of it. Her body moved on its own, her steps slow, her eyes clouded with the effects of the aphrodisiac.

Estella broke the kiss, her breath ragged, her eyes meeting Mikhailis's. There was a mix of emotions in her gaze—desire, determination, frustration. She was struggling, fighting to stay in control, to prove that she wasn't just a victim of her own plan. She whispered, her voice shaky but resolute, "Hold me tighter. Please." She needed the contact, needed to feel like she was in control of what was happening.

Mikhailis obliged, his arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. His eyes never left hers, his expression still calm, almost amused. It was as if he knew exactly what she was trying to do and was letting her play her game, letting her believe she was in control. He didn't push, didn't demand anything more. He simply held her, his presence steady, his warmth surrounding her.

Estella's heart pounded, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. She felt a rush of triumph—she was using him, gaining the advantage. But deep down, something else stirred—a strange sense of comfort, a feeling she hadn't expected. The more she tried to fight the effects of the aphrodisiac, the more her body betrayed her, her emotions shifting, blurring the line between manipulation and something more.

She looked up at Mikhailis, her vision swimming, her mind a foggy mess of conflicting emotions. She hated him for being so calm, so collected, for not falling into her trap the way she had expected. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the comfort she felt in his embrace, the way his warmth seemed to ease the ache inside her. It scared her, the way her plan seemed to be unraveling, the way her emotions were shifting, changing.

Why is he doing this? Why won't he just fall for it?

She could feel her control slipping, her body giving in to the warmth, the comfort. She wanted to push him away, to regain her composure, but her body refused to obey. She clung to him, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt, her eyes searching his.

Mikhailis's gaze was steady, his expression softening. He seemed to understand, seemed to see through her facade, and that terrified her. He wasn't supposed to see her like this—vulnerable, desperate. She was supposed to be the one in control, the one leading the game. But now, here she was, clinging to him, her body trembling, her mind a chaotic mess.

Rhea took another step forward, her eyes half-lidded, her body swaying slightly. She watched as Estella clung to Mikhailis, her heart pounding, her instincts torn between wanting to protect her mistress and wanting to be part of what was happening. She could feel the aphrodisiac's effects, her body responding to the scene before her, her breath quickening, her mind clouded.

Mikhailis looked at Rhea, his eyes meeting hers. There was no judgment there, no anger—just a calm, understanding gaze. He held out a hand to her, his expression soft. "Come here, Rhea," he said, his voice gentle.

Rhea hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her hand reaching out to take his. She moved slowly, her body feeling heavy, her mind a foggy mess. She knelt beside them, her eyes meeting Estella's for a brief moment before looking back at Mikhailis.

Mikhailis wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, his gaze shifting between the two women. He could see the struggle in their eyes, the fight to maintain control, the desire to prove themselves. He held them both, his expression softening, his eyes filled with something that neither of them could quite understand.

"I've answered your needs," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath warm against their skin.

"Now let me give you more warmth."

Estella's breath caught, her body trembling. She felt the line between her manipulation and genuine emotion blur even further, her heart pounding in her chest. She had come here to take control, to use Mikhailis for her own gain. But now, as she knelt there, held in his embrace, she felt something else—something she couldn't quite name, something that scared her.

Rhea looked at Mikhailis, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. She had always been loyal to Estella, always followed her without question. But now, here, in this moment, she felt something shift, something change. She couldn't deny the warmth, the comfort she felt, the way Mikhailis's presence seemed to ease the ache inside her.

Estella closed her eyes, her breath coming in short gasps. She had always prided herself on her willpower, her strength. But now, here, in Mikhailis's embrace, she felt that strength slipping away, replaced by something else—something she couldn't control, something that scared her.

She opened her eyes, looking up at Mikhailis, her vision blurred, her thoughts scattered. She wanted to push him away, to regain her composure, but her body refused to obey. She clung to him, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt, her eyes searching his, looking for something—anything—that would give her back her control.

Mikhailis's gaze was steady, his expression softening. He seemed to understand, seemed to see through her facade, and that terrified her. He wasn't supposed to see her like this—vulnerable, desperate. She was supposed to be the one in control, the one leading the game. But now, here she was, clinging to him, her body trembling, her mind a chaotic mess.

"Don't worry," Mikhailis whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've got you."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that she couldn't ignore, a promise that she hadn't expected. Estella's heart pounded, her breath catching, her mind a foggy mess of emotions she couldn't name.

She looked at Rhea, her eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before looking back at Mikhailis. There was something in his eyes—something that made her want to believe him, to trust him. It scared her, the way her emotions were shifting, the way her control was slipping. But for now, just for this moment, she let herself lean into his warmth, let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to be in control all the time.

Then, the plan started to crumble.

Their will power is gone, as they want Mikhailis to assault them first.

Estella's hand.

End up going towards his crotch.